Prince and Prejudice
by elizabethday
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet meets Crown Prince Fitzwilliam of Perelandra and instantly falls into dislike. But things happen and people change. And this is that fairytale story.
1. Chapter 1

"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Fitzwilliam Darcy Andrew Geoffrey of Kopeland."  
He abhorred his name. If there was an award for the worst name in the world, he would win it every time. Growing up, he'd always questioned his parents' love for him. What kind of parents gave their child such a long, antiquated series of names? When he asked them, they would simply laugh and tell him the more names he had, the more he was loved. He disagreed. It seemed the more names he had, the more people antagonized him. Eventually, he'd convinced them to call him 'Fitz,' and he'd grown into his name. A little bit.  
It wouldn't be so bad if propriety didn't dictate that his entire name was announced upon his entrance into every social event of the season. But it did. And here he was.  
Prince Fitzwilliam looked upon the crowd below him as his name was announced before his entrance into Lady Sophia's debutante ball. Below him rolled a sea of taffeta, voices thundered, and light flashed upon the interspersed jewels. Just like a thunderstorm on the ocean, these people were equal parts beautiful and destructive, and they could steer anyone off course. Only the most experienced could navigate these stormy waters, and Fitzwilliam was a tried and true sailor; he'd been at it since he could lead a lady in a waltz. As much as he hated formal occasions with these people, they were a constant staple in his life.  
Standing at the top of the stairs in his tuxedo, he nodded to the masses. The crowd simultaneously bowed to the Crown Prince of Perelandra. He remained at the top for a photo op before making his way down the staircase, trying his best to look more poised and stoic than he felt. He had found out early on that a firm mouth and a slightly raised brow made sycophants less inclined to approach him. So every time he entered a room, he tried to hold on to that look. If they were his friends or had something important enough to talk about, they would look past his haughty expression. Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs where he met his younger sister, Princess Georgiana. He was relieved to see that the guests had returned to their former conversations.  
She smiled and kissed his cheek, her diamond and ruby tiara glittering in the bright lights. It had been a favorite of their mother's, and he had made sure that it was passed down to Georgiana on her sixteenth birthday. "Georgie, you look stunning." He placed her hand in the crook of his arm and smiled. "That color suits you."  
She smoothed the pink chiffon gown with her other hand. "Thank you. I designed this one myself. You look rather dashing yourself, but you know what would make you look even more handsome?"  
He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Please, enlighten me."  
She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "A smile."  
Fitz rolled his eyes. "You know I hate these things." He led her toward their seats, strategically avoiding anyone who looked eager to converse. "They're a waste of time and money. The Season is just an opportunity for Aunt Catherine to flaunt her status. Or rather, make me flaunt her status when she decides she's too good to come."  
"I know. But I also know that, like it or not, you will soon be King of this country, and as such you will need to learn how to make friends. You cannot do much in this country without friends, Fitz."  
It was easy for Fitz to forget that Georgiana was no longer a child. It was moments like these when he was struck by her age and intelligence. His baby sister with pig tails had grown into a beautiful young woman who had wisdom to share, and the realization never failed to throw him for a loop.  
"I have friends!" he cried defiantly. She may be old and wise at the ripe age of eighteen, but that didn't means she was always right. "I am just careful of whom I allow within that circle."  
"And by that, you mean your circle is only big enough for three people?" She smirked, knowing she had won the battle.  
"I have more than three friends," he insisted as he pulled her seat out for her. "I have Charles and Richard and- and you." He trailed off.  
Her eyebrow arched. "So, one of your three friends is your sister, and the other is your cousin. You have one friend who isn't required to be so. You need to wipe that scowl off your face and work on being nice to people! Right now you may be considered 'The World's Most Eligible Bachelor,' but if the rags get any more pictures of your perpetual scowl, they might rename you 'The World's Most Curmudgeonly 28 Year Old.' I mean, really. You're wonderful! Why don't you let more people experience your greatness?"  
"First of all, you're biased. Second of all, you know what makes me curmudgeonly? My little sister telling me what to do!" He nudged her good-naturedly, and she nudged back. "Your Highness," a young woman interrupted with a poor attempt at a curtsey. "What a pleasure."  
"Lady Hannah," he grunted. "The pleasure is mine."  
"I was just telling my friends how talented of a dancer you are." Her simpering to get a dance with a prince was going to be all for not.  
"Thank you. I am so sorry, but will you excuse us? I have an important matter to discuss with my sister."  
Disgruntled, the already inebriated woman stalked off, undoubtedly to gossip about the rude prince.  
"It's going to be a long night," he groaned, lifting a glass of wine to his lips and taking a large gulp. "Everyone is so conniving and selfish."  
Georgiana couldn't help but nod in agreement. "At least there will be dancing. You will dance with me, right? You used to love dancing!"  
"That was before I had to dance with every woman wanting to be queen someday. I'll dance with you, but I can't make any promises that I will dance with anyone else."  
"You're going to die alone," she muttered.  
"Better than having to dance with that bimbo."  
She couldn't help but laugh. "You're not wrong."

Hours later, sometime after midnight, Fitz returned to his apartments in Kopeland Palace and immediately yanked off his jacket and bowtie, tossing them somewhere in the kitchen as he walked through. The maids would pick them up later. As he moved through the apartment and into his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and flopped onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling, wondering at what his life had become.  
He was never supposed to be the Crown Prince. He had always known that there was a possibility he would someday rule Perelandra, but it was never a real threat. Unfortunately, his family had experienced a series of tragedies that resulted in him being cast into a role of which he wanted no part.  
His aunt, Queen Catherine, had a son named Leopold who was two years older than Fitz. He was the first in line to inherit the throne, and Fitz was third in line after his father, and that was assuming Leopold didn't have children of his own. Fitz constantly prayed that his cousin would marry and have lots of children who would bump him further and further down the line. Unfortunately, it was not to be. When Leopold was twenty-two years old, he died suddenly of a drug overdose, which resulted in Fitz moving directly into the line of succession. Fitz was only twenty years old when his life took a drastically different course. No longer allowed to study architecture and travel the world during his years at university, he was instead forced to switch his major to International Studies and attend meetings and parties without end. He managed the pressure, though, because he had thought his reign would not be for years down the line. His father would become King first, and he would be able to live the life of the second-in-line Prince for a long time. That was also not to be, however, because his father died in a plane crash when Fitz was twenty-five. Not only did Fitz grieve his father, but he was tasked with taking care of his younger sister, who was only fifteen at the time. Queen Catherine had also insisted on him taking on more engagements and joining the military. Georgiana had made the observations many times that the first two years after their father's death had drastically changed him. He had always been more reserved, but he became stoic and taciturn. Where he had once been willing to relax and spend some time with friends, he now spent all his available time working or in solitude. If he were being honest with himself, he did appreciate the job. There was so much to running a country, and he was learning a lot under the tutelage of his aunt. He loved learning about his country and the inner workings of politics. He loved affecting change. What he did not love, however, was the show of it all. The pomp and circumstance of the monarchy was exhausting for him, and unfortunately, that was the main chunk of the job. His life was a raging river of meaningless events. He felt like he was constantly being swept away from the life he wanted by the photographers and fans. The state dinners and balls were the rapids of his life, causing him to use every amount of energy to simply keep himself afloat. He wasn't meant for this life, yet it was the life to which he was resigned.  
What he needed was a vacation. He needed to get away from the insanity of his life- away from the immoral family members, the incessant photographers, and the never-ending meetings. He needed a break from being Crown Prince Fitzwilliam, the future King of Perelandra. He needed to have a chance to be Fitz Darcy, a wannabe architect and businessman.  
His phone rang, plucking him from his pity party. Groaning, he rolled over to get his phone from the nightstand.  
"Hello?" he mumbled.  
"Fitz! It's been awhile. How are you, mate?"  
Fitz sat up in his bed. He hadn't heard from Charles Bingley in at least six months. He hadn't seen Charles Bingley in a year and a half.  
"Charles! Man, it's good to hear from you. But, do you have any idea what time it is?"  
The other man laughed. "I never know what time it is. Sorry if I woke you."  
"You didn't. I just got home, actually. How's Africa?" Dr. Charles Bingley had been Fitz's best friend at university and was the son of Sir Elliot Bingley. They met in one of their first year classes and remained friends ever since. Dr. Bingley had spent the last three years working with Doctors without Borders in Sudan. The friends had stayed in contact over the years, but their communication was sporadic at best.  
"I'm actually coming home for a bit. That's why I called. I am starting a three month furlough next week, and I've had trouble deciding how I want to spend it."  
"I'd have thought you would spend it with your family." It was more of a question than a statement. If it were Fitz's family, he would avoid them at all cost. Bingley was a much friendlier fellow, however.  
Charles sighed. "I am. I just feel like I need to get away. So I have a proposition for you. Come stay with me in Hertfordshire for a month. Maybe more. It will be just the two of us for the first week, and then the girls will join us." He had two sisters who had done their best to control the man's life since he was born. His older sister, Louisa Hurst, was an accountant. She was married to Timothy Hurst, who was, in Fitz's opinion, nothing more than a rude drunk. Fitz had never seen the man sober. Charles's younger sister, Caroline, was an aspiring fashion designer/party planner/influencer and quite the character. She would make a pass at Fitz whenever she saw him, without fail. It took everything in Fitz to be kind to her.  
"Hertfordshire?" questioned Fitz. "Why Hertfordshire? We could go anywhere, and you want to go to the middle of nowhere?"  
"Well, Meryton, to be more specific. It sounded relaxing, although it's far from Kopeland. I rented a house there. I figured it would be a good opportunity to get away from everything. Apparently, there is plenty of game to hunt, there is fishing, and they say downtown Meryton has a hopping nightlife."  
Fitz snorted. "What is Meryton's version of 'nightlife'?"  
"Seriously, Fitz. Come with me. I'm sure you need a break just as much as I do. The house I rented is an old estate, and it has an extensive library. It actually reminds me of Pemberley on a smaller scale. You could get lost in there. Please."  
He considered it for a moment. "Well, I was just thinking about how I need a vacation," he trailed off. "Alright, fine. I'll have to confirm the timing with my assistant. A month is a long time for me to be away from the circus."  
"Great!" Bingley never heard the caveats. He only heard what he wanted to hear. "I will see you in Hertfordshire in a week!"  
Fitz hung up the phone and rolled back over onto his pillows. He was finally getting a vacation. One where no one would expect anything of him.

A week later, Fitz found himself on the two hour drive to the small town of Meryton. It had been a battle to get the month off, but he finally managed it. Aunt Catherine had balked at first, but he gently and firmly explained to her that it was the perfect time for a break. After an hour and a half of pleading, she finally relented. Really and truly, the woman didn't have any legitimate reasons against his vacation. She just wanted to exercise her control. Queen Catherine may have been a head of the Perelandran government, but she still did her best to create situations in which to exert more of her power. And it drove Fitz nuts.  
Fitz followed his GPS all the way to an old estate. Charles was right; it was like a smaller version of Pemberley, the estate his mother had inherited that was now a part of his own holdings. Netherfield was a large, gray stone house that had at one time been the home of a great family. The main house was on a large piece of land that had been farmed by tenants long ago. Now, it was lovely and wild, full of trees and ponds and tall grasses. Perfect for hunting.  
He pulled his Land Rover into the long driveway and grinned when he saw his friend waiting on the steps. Charles' bright red hair flapped in the wind and matched his bright smile. Fitz couldn't help but laugh as he jumped from the car and pulled his best friend into a hug.  
"It's been too long, man!" exclaimed Bingley. "I'm glad you were able to make it!"  
"I had to fight the old bat for it, but it was worth it. She actually claimed that the monarchy would fall if I were gone for a month. I don't really know what that says about her diplomacy skills…" Bingley was the only person who heard such ungracious words come from Fitz's mouth. He laughed, and the deep sound scared some birds out of a nearby tree.  
"Come in, come in! I should warn you, though. Caroline insisted on coming early, and she wouldn't take no for an answer."  
Fitz resisted the urge to groan. He should've known. The second Caroline would have heard he was coming, she would have invited herself. And Charles wouldn't have had the heart to tell her no.  
Charles grabbed Fitz's duffle bag and hurled it over his shoulder.  
"I'm surprised, old man, that this is all you brought. I would've expected the Prince to bring his entire wardrobe. Caroline is going to be disappointed that you didn't bring your entourage."  
"I decided my entourage wouldn't be necessary for a month of reading, hunting, and fishing. It's not like there are going to be hoards of people to fight off," Fitz said as he followed Charles into the foyer. He didn't mention that there was another bag full of formal clothing his aunt insisted he bring. Charles stopped and glanced at Fitz. "Yeah, about that."  
Fitz glared at him. "Don't tell me." Charles winced. "I met this man when I arrived yesterday, Mr. Lucas. He is having a party in two days. Practically the entire town is invited."  
"Seriously. You do realize that requires a whole other level of preparation for me. The only way I could convince Samuel to take the month off was because I told him that we wouldn't be in public. And even then, I'm pretty sure he's going to show up in about three hours because the man can't take a break."  
Charles handed the duffle to the nearest butler and led Fitz into the study where he poured him a glass of port.  
"You can't spend three hours with Meryton society, probably the most docile and friendly people known to man, without calling your security team? You've changed."  
Fitz bristled at that word. It infuriated him when people pointed out that he had become a different man because of his title. "Excuse me?"  
"The Fitz I know would have said 'screw it' and gone with me anyway. What's the worst that can happen?"  
"Uh, someone assassinates me."  
Charles actually laughed, and Fitz couldn't help his own smile. "Yeah, mate, I guess that could happen. I didn't even think about that. Still, you're going. Call whoever you need to call, but in two days you're coming."  
Before Fitz had the chance to complain, Caroline waltzed into the room. Her orange hair was curled around her face, and her make up was done to perfection. She was wearing designer workout clothes, but the only working out she appeared to have done was strutting from her bedroom to where the Prince now stood.  
"Prince Fitz! Oh, darling, it is so good to see you again!" she exclaimed affectedly. She pulled him into a hug that he hesitantly returned. Again, Fitz stifled a groan. "Hi, Caroline. How are you?"  
She kissed his cheeks and stood back to look at him. "You look good, Your Highness. No wonder you're the World's Most Eligible Bachelor!"  
Charles laughed. "Is that what they're calling you now? Man, I leave the country for a few months, and the world is turned upside down. Next thing we know, they'll have Queen Catherine strutting down the catwalk."  
"Is your sister here?" Fitz was eager to get the conversation away from himself.  
Caroline waved her hand. "Louisa had to work. That woman is a workaholic. She needs to take more breaks. She's supposed to join us next week, but knowing her she won't bother to show up."  
Charles took a swig of his drink. "She has a job that she enjoys, and she makes money doing it. I don't understand why it's confusing to you that she can't take a break every other day. When are you going to get a job?" He loved his family and was easily persuaded on many things, but when it came to Caroline he did not have much patience. His sister crossed her arms. "I do have a job. I am a party planner. And I'm a student. That's more than some people can say."  
Fitz rolled his eyes, but left the talking to his friend.  
"First of all, you're not a student. You read fashion magazines and give poor girls unwanted opinions on their outfits. Second of all, party planning for some friend every few months does not a job make. You need a job that will allow you to go somewhere all day every day and work towards something. I won't support you forever, you know."  
Caroline huffed and stomped out of the room. Charles sighed. "I keep threatening to cut her off, but I just don't have the heart to do it."  
Fitz, used to being involved in his friend's affairs, did not hesitate to give his opinion. "Charles, she is twenty two years old. She needs to be doing something with herself other than spending your money and partying. The magazines have been calling her a playgirl. You need to reign it in, or you need to let her go. Otherwise, she'll make your entire family a laughing stock."  
Charles drained the rest of his drink. "I just don't know if I can do it."  
Fitz shrugged. "Well, it's your deal. In the meantime, let's go fishing."  
His best friend grinned and stood. "I've got the bait and poles ready. We've got enough to last us the entire month."  
The Prince couldn't help the smile that graced his face. This trip wasn't going to be so bad. 


	2. Chapter 2

"North of France there lies a country that is a dichotomy between the past and the future. It is a land of great beauty and innovation, while simultaneously maintaining archaic roles and traditions. Tourists flock there year after year, drawn in by the pastoral scenes in the countryside and the pomp and circumstance of the monarchy, but they remain entranced by the modern architecture and technological marvels. Perelandra is an enigma; it is moving so fast toward the future that it almost seems to be standing still in the class

"One of the most time-honored institutions is the monarchy. Although the country is truly ruled by the Parliament, the Sovereign is still politically involved and held in the highest of regards. Queen Catherine, the current head of state, is well-renowned for her ruthless political savvy, as well as her adherence to the strictest of decorum. Her interference in Parliament has led to several laws being passed that not only have improved the quality of life of the middle class, but have also created a booming economy.

"That being said, Queen Catherine is well and truly feared. Even her own family avoids her presence. Many people from inside the royal circle have referred to her as a 'dictator' and a 'despot.' Unfortunately, she is alone, as both her husband and only son died, leaving her nephew, Crown Prince Fitzwilliam, as the Heir Apparent. While the Queen is in good health and likely has many years ahead in her reign, the younger generations are eager for the 28 year old to take the throne."

The professor looked up from the text and surveyed the small class in front of her. "Okay. Now we have a glimpse into the country. Where most of us have lived our entire lives." The class snickered. "What information from this article is pertinent to Martinez's depiction in "Ode to the Nuances"?

A young man in the back raised his hand. "Martinez's characters are representative of the old and new Perelandra; Ulysses is decrepit but staunch, while Bernard is young and flighty. They are in constant conflict."

"Good! Keep going with that."

"The question is, what happens?" began a woman in the front. "They can argue and fight and oppose each other all they want, but eventually someone will win out. Right?"

The professor smiled. "You tell me."

"There is no winner," called a voice from the back. "At least, not yet."

The woman turned toward him. "How can there be no winner?"

"The entire point of Martinez's poem is that there is no resolution. Or if it is, it's not within our ability to see. It is human nature for the past to be fighting against the future. Perelandra is the perfect setting because he easily sees that they have been working in harmony for centuries. His point remains, however, that eventually-it could be another three hundred years- but eventually, one of them is going to win out. Either the past will stall them and other countries will surpass this great country, or the people will choose the future and soar even further than they already have. But the point is that we have no way of knowing who is going to win."

"Yes!" cried Elizabeth Bennet. "That is exactly what I wanted you to see! It's easy to read this poem at the base level: a battle between two men. But when you understand the context and the symbolism, it becomes a cultural commentary. That's enough for today; you are dismissed. But don't forget the reading!"

There were fewer things Elizabeth Bennet enjoyed more than when students had an 'Ah ha!' moment in her lectures. And often, those 'Ah ha!' moments were her own. That's what she loved so much about literature. There were so many layers and elements that had to be analyzed and pondered and meditated. Bringing those realizations to students was the sole reason she'd become a literature professor.

"Professor Bennet?"

She looked up from her computer, the blue light reflecting off her glasses. "Yes?"

"I am so sorry to bother you, but I had a question. "Ode to the Nuances" was written nearly a hundred years ago, long before Queen Catherine's reign and the content of that article. How can we still say that Martinez saw the same things one hundred years ago?"

"Mr. Brandon, do you remember the line in the article that read 'it is moving so fast toward the future that it almost seems to be standing still in the past?'" He nodded, so she continued. "The state of the country hasn't changed in over two centuries."

"Do you think the monarchy is a catalyst for moving forward or backward?"

Elizabeth pushed her glasses up her nose and smirked. "I think it depends on who the Sovereign is. Queen Catherine, for all of her political prowess, is a stickler for social order and tradition. Past Kings and Queens have been more revolutionary, and I suspect that future rulers will be more modern as well. We will just have to see." She stuck her laptop into the back and slung it over her shoulder. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a party to get to. I will see you on Thursday."

What she didn't tell him was that she abhorred the arrogance of the royal family and their propensity for scandal and overspending. The ancient concept of divine right also chafed her. If she had her way, Perelandra would be ruled by the people.

But the general public did not listen to the opinions of lowly literature professors, so she would maintain her opinion in class.

It didn't take her long to get home from the Liberal Arts College building of Meryton University. She and her sister shared a flat in downtown Meryton, so it was about a ten minute walk. As she strutted down the sidewalk, she checked her voicemail.

"Elizabeth Marie Bennet, it is appalling to me that you never answer your phone. Why do you even bother having a phone if you don't answer it? Especially if it's your poor mother. I went through forty-five hours of agonizing labor to bring you into this world; the least you could do is answer your phone!

"Anyway, I expect to see you at Mr. Lucas's celebration tonight. I know anthropology isn't a valid reason to receive a knighthood, but it would be a shame for us to miss a party. Goodness knows you need to meet a man. Before we know it, you will be an old maid, and I will be grandchildless. Jane will be coming as well. There is a new doctor staying in town for a couple of months. She needs to meet someone rich for once, and he won't be able to resist her beauty. Also, I expect to see you in that black cocktail dress I bought you last month. It makes the best of the features you emdo /emhave. And be on time. Please."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and deleted the voicemail. How was it that society was gradually giving women more equality, yet if they chose to remain single there was something wrong with them? It made her want to never go on a date again, just to prove a point. She was a grown woman, yet her mother still managed to coerce her into doing things. She was going to this party, regardless of whether she wanted to or not, and she would be wearing that black dress.

She wondered, as she did every other day, how she ended up with such ridiculous family members. The only people she could tolerate out of her family of seven were her father and Jane. At least they had some common sense. Most of the time. She clicked on the next voicemail, intrigued by the number she didn't recognize. "Miss Bennet, this is Jeannine Alberts from the Ministry of Education. I am calling on behalf of the Minister to inform you that you have been nominated for the Educator of the Year award. This is a great honor bestowed on one person in each age group from Perelandra. The week of events will take place in a few months' time and conclude with an awards ceremony at Kopeland palace. Someone will call again in a few weeks to solidify the details with you, but if you have any questions please feel free to call."

Elizabeth looked at her phone screen, thinking it was a joke. Professors from tiny universities in the country were never nominated for such a prestigious award. Then she remembered a student the year before who told her she was nominating her. She hadn't thought anything of it, thinking it was just a sweet gesture, but apparently she had been selected. She immediately called her father. Then her sister. Then Charlotte. She couldn't wait another couple of hours to see them. She had to tell them right then.

* * *

Elizabeth Bennet was many things. She was witty, independent, and fiercely loyal. She was an avid reader and a self-proclaimed character diagnostician. One thing she was not: punctual.

"Lizzy! Come on, we're going to be late!"

Stumbling around her bedroom, she was struggling to find her purse and her other shoe. She'd immersed herself in a book after work again and had lost track of the time. She bent underneath her bed and stood moments later, holding her other black stiletto triumphantly.

"Aha! Jane!" She yelled as she balanced on one foot and tried to get the newfound shoe on the other foot. "Jane!"

Her sister peeked her head through the door. Of course, she was completely put together and drinking a glass of cucumber water. She was the perfect, most-loved sister for many reasons, the most annoying being that she didn't get flustered. "Lizzy, your hair isn't even done, and we should've left twenty minutes ago."

"What should I do with my hair? I don't know what to do with it!"

Jane surveyed the unruly brown hair and suppressed a grin. "I'm not sure there's much yo can do with it at this point without having to take a shower and start over. Why don't I put it in a nice bun for you?"

"Mom's going to be so mad that I'm not leaving it down," Elizabeth mumbled as she continued to struggle with the shoe. "In fact, why-" Her words were cut short as she lost her balance and fell to the floor, face first. Jane tried as hard as she could to keep a straight face, but her giggles escaped.

Elizabeth glared at her but too couldn't resist the infectious laughter. For several minutes, despite their mother's ire looming over them, the two sisters sat on the floor together laughing.

"You just dropped like a rock," gasped Jane. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing has been hurt but my pride. And we both know how easily that is bruised."

"I wish I'd gotten it on video!"

Elizabeth lifted up a pillow that was on the floor next to her to hit her sister, but she as distracted by the diamond stud lying underneath it. "Aha! That's where I left it!"

"I swear, you're more irresponsible than Lydia." Jane grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her up to her feet. "At least you contain it to your bedroom. Otherwise, I don't think we would've made very good roommates. Come on, I'll help you with your hair."

"It's not irresponsibility, Jane. It's the absent-minded professor persona I've adopted."span class="Apple-converted-space"

"You're such a dork."

Elizabeth grinned cheekily. "But you love me anyway!"

Jane pushed her down onto the vanity chair and got to work. Within minutes she had Elizabeth's hair in an elegant chignon at the nape of her neck.

"You know, if being a publicist doesn't work out, you'd be a very successful hair dresser."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, come on. Mom is going to murder us."


	3. Chapter 3

"Elizabeth Marie Bennet! Where have you been? You were supposed to have been here _an hour_ ago! To think that I gave birth to you and raised you, only for you to-"

"Hello, mother. Doesn't Jane look radiant?"

Elizabeth had learned long ago that one of the best ways to distract her mother was to focus her attention on Jane's good looks. It always provided a moment or two for her to escape. And escape, she did. She unapologetically left Jane to her mother's raptures and made her way to the bar. While she was waiting on a glass of wine, she took a moment to examine the people around her. Most of them were familiar, family almost, but there were a few new faces. The people of the neighborhood were simple and nosy, but they were good for a laugh, and she dearly loved to laugh.

"Lizzy, did you quit teaching to become a hooker? I know it's better money, but I thought you had more self-respect than that!"

Elizabeth turned around toward the familiar voice and pulled her best friend into a hug.

"Charlotte! My mother made me wear it." The black dress was skin tight and only hit mid-thigh. When combined with her black stilettos, her legs looked amazing, but she did look a bit like a streetwalker. She tried to balance the look with natural makeup, and of course the bun, but she still felt extremely exposed.

"You are twenty-four years old, for heaven's sake. You don't even live at home anymore. At some point, you're going to have to stop blaming your poor fashion choices on your mother."

Elizabeth laughed. "You know just as well as I do that it's easier to give Fanny Bennet what she wants rather than listen to her complain for hours on end."

Charlotte had grown up with Lizzy and had joined Elizabeth on the wrong side of Mrs. Bennet's endless tirades and complaints about her nerves too many times to count, so she couldn't blame her friend for avoiding the incessant shrieking.

"You look nice, though."

Charlotte looked down at the dress she was wearing. She loved it, but her mother hadn't failed to inform her that yellow was a horrible color on her. Of course, she waited until the last minute to tell her, so she didn't have time to change.

She decided to change the subject, not wanting to talk about her newest source of insecurity. "Jane looks lovely tonight. That green is stunning on her."

Elizabeth glanced at her sister who was conversing with Charlotte's older brother on the other side of the room. It was true, the emerald green dress was gorgeous. It hugged her tightly until it flared at the waist. Of course, anything would look good on the former model.

"I gave up on competing with my sister a long time ago," joked Elizabeth. "She got the beauty and the kindness. I got the brains. I'm not sure it's a fair trade-off, but it's one I can live with."

"Well, it's better than my family. Maria got the looks, Albert got the brains, Joseph got the kindness, and what do I have? Nothing?" Charlotte said it with a smile on her face and a lilting laugh, but Elizabeth knew her well enough to know it wasn't really a joking matter.

She put her arm around her best friend's shoulder. "You have wit and sass. Not to mention you have all of those things your siblings have. Don't you think it's better to have some of all than to have all of one and none of the rest?"

Before Charlotte could respond, a hush suddenly came over the hotel ballroom, and the two friends looked toward the front. At the top of the stairs stood three unfamiliar people. Well, two unfamiliar people and another who was so familiar it was intimidating.

Elizabeth leaned into Charlotte and whispered into her ear. "Is that Prince Fitzwilliam?"

Her friend nodded wordlessly, just as surprised. "I believe so. And the other man who is with him is Dr. Bingley. He's the one who rented the Netherfield estate. And the woman is Dr. Bingley's sister. I wonder how he and the Prince know each other."

"Poor Prince Fitzwilliam. He looks miserable," chuckled Elizabeth.

Their eyes followed the trio as they made their way toward the masses. They quite obviously stood out among the crowd with their impeccably tailored suits and Miss Bingley's vibrant fuchsia dress. Prince Fitzwilliam cut a fine figure to be sure, with his tall frame and thick dark hair, but his brow was furrowed and his jaw was clenched. Elizabeth couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh at him or have pity on him.

"Miserable he may be, but poor he most certainly is not," insisted Charlotte. "That man has more money than you and I could ever imagine. The value of the duchy alone is enough to feed a third world country, but apparently his estate from his mother's side is just as profitable. We're talking millions of pounds annually." In her spare time, Charlotte followed anything and everything having to do with the royal family.

"What a waste of money," Elizabeth whispered back. "He could change the world with that."

They were silenced as the prince walked past them. Elizabeth looked up, and her eyes locked with his, but he looked quickly away, leaving her with an unsettled feeling.

"He certainly is handsome, though," she murmured.

His eyes were dark and brooding. As cliche as it sounded, she felt as if he had stared into her soul in the millisecond their eyes had met. He looked as if he had seen horrors that she would never encounter in her lifetime. It made her wonder how a man who was only slightly older than herself could have eyes that looked so haunted. And wise. Or condescending. She hadn't decided yet.

Lydia ran up squealing. "Did you see him, Lizzy? Did you see him?"

Elizabeth couldn't resist the opportunity to have a little fun with her youngest sister. "Who? Mr. Townshend?"

The fifteen-year old rolled her eyes. "No, stupid. Prince Fitzwilliam. He's here! In Hertfordshire! Can you believe it?"

"Even royals get out sometimes, Lydia."

"Oh, Elizabeth! Have you seen? Have you seen?"

Elizabeth sighed as her mother shuffled up to her, exclaiming loudly.

"Yes, I've seen. Please stop making a scene."

"I've asked Mr. - _Sir_ _-_ Lucas to introduce us. So come along. Your father is gathering the other girls. I'm so glad you took my advice and wore that dress, Lizzy. It certainly makes the best of the features you do have. Jane looks stunning, however, and if anyone can catch the Prince's eye it's her."

"You must be joking," insisted Elizabeth. "You really think that one of your nobody daughters is going to catch the eye of the Prince? Keep dreaming."

Mrs. Bennet huffed. "You take too much after your father, Miss Elizabeth. You must be more positive."

As they grew closer to the honored guest, Elizabeth couldn't help but shoot up a prayer that her family not embarrass her too much.

"Prince Fitzwilliam, Dr. Bingley, Miss Bingley, I would like to introduce you to the Bennet family. This is Mr. And Mrs. Bennet and their daughters: Jane, Elizabeth, Kitty, Mary, and Lydia."

Dr. Bingley was the first to extend his hands to each member of the Bennet clan. His eyes lingered especially long on Jane, causing her to blush prettily.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I have to tell you that I have met the nicest people here in Hertfordshire. There must be something in the water."

"Well, Dr. Bingley, you haven't seen anything yet. Hertfordshire may have the nicest people in Perelandra, but it definitely has the most beautiful women. My daughters, in particular."

Elizabeth stifled a groan and quickly tried to lessen the blow of her mother's thoughtlessness. "She's biased," she explained with a grin. "Any mother is biased, but when all five daughters look so much like her, she bound to see beauty in them all."

It was true. All five Bennet girls had the same almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and pert noses. The only differences came in their coloring. Jane, Kitty, and Lydia all shared the blonde hair and blue eyes of their mother, whereas Elizabeth and Mary had their father's dark hair and green eyes.

"Besides, if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then Dr. Bingley can hardly be expected to agree, Mum."

The man grinned, first at Elizabeth, then at Jane. "I have found no reason to disagree so far."

Miss Bingley was the next to extend her hand, first to Jane, then to Elizabeth. "It's a pleasure."

Elizabeth's mouth quirked up at the obvious disdain felt by the woman. She had a feeling that she would prove to be a very engaging character study. The way she held her head, with her nose point to the ceiling, reminded Elizabeth of a poodle in a dog show. If she had to guess, she would say that Miss Caroline Bingley lived her life like a dog on display too.

Finally, Prince Fitzwilliam nodded toward them. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Elizabeth pursed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. He had not looked any of them in the eye and had not even deigned to shake hands! How arrogant could a man be? Apparently that wisdom she had seen in his eyes was indeed haughtiness.

"The pleasure is ours, Prince Fitzwilliam," simpered Mrs. Bennet. "It is an honor to have you in our humble little town. What brought you here?"

"Vacation."

Charles glared at his friend, obviously unimpressed with his inhospitality, but turned to Jane. "Would you like to dance?" She accepted, and the town made their way to the dance floor. Mrs. Bennet smiled broadly enough to let everyone in the group know exactly how pleased she was with herself for manipulating the conversation in that direction. Or so she thought.

The other sisters went off to find their dance partners, but Elizabeth remained where she was, watching her sister with Dr. Bingley. The poor man couldn't take his eyes off her sister, not that she could blame him. Jane's body writhed and moved as if she didn't have a care in the world and was oblivious to the man standing in front of her. He moved offbeat, so consumed with her that he paid no attention to the music. It was quite amusing, actually, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Is something funny?" asked Caroline Bingley.

Elizabeth turned in surprise, having forgotten that she was still in the presence of her new, if temporary, neighbors.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I was just watching the people on the dance floor. I must say, I do enjoy people-watching."

"I have a hard time believing that Hertfordshire offers much opportunity for that."

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose at Prince Fitzwilliam's comment. "For someone who has traveled so much in his life, I can understand how Hertfordshire would be dull. For those of us who grew up here, however, it is as good as we can hope for."

She waited a few moments for a response, and when she received none, she tried a new tactic.

"Do you like to dance, sir?"

"Not if I can help it," was his perfunctory reply.

Elizabeth didn't even excuse herself. She simply turned away with a smirk and made her way toward another group of people. She wasn't about to waste her time with a group of people who didn't know how to have fun. She was unaware, however, that a certain pair of dark eyes followed her the entire way.

She thoroughly enjoyed herself that evening, dancing with several young men she had known her entire life and talking with some of her friends from high school. By the middle of the party, she was tired and decided to sit out for a few minutes. She found a small table in a secluded corner and took a seat.

She was nursing a glass of merlot when Dr. Bingley and the Prince sat at a table a bit in front of her. She couldn't help but listen in on her conversation.

"Come on, Fitz. It's a party. You need to liven up a little bit," pleaded Bingley. He handed him a shot glass of tequila. "Get out there on the dance floor. There are some beautiful girls here."

"You are dancing with the only truly beautiful woman here," was the Prince's short reply.

"She is stunning, isn't she?" He positively beamed and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile with him. "The most gorgeous woman I have ever met. Her sister, Elizabeth, is very beautiful, too. They are considered the two beauties of Hertfordshire."

She couldn't help the blush and the smile that crept onto her face.

"She is tolerable but not pretty enough to tempt me. Besides, why would I waste my time with a woman who has been ignored by other men. There must be something wrong with her."

Elizabeth's mouth fell open. At first, she was horribly offended. Then, she realized the humor of the situation and had to try her hardest to hold her laughter.

"Gosh, Fitz. You are an arrogant bastard sometimes, you know that? You could at least _try_ to be sociable. Even if it's only with Caroline." She could at least appreciate that Dr. Bingley was not afraid to speak out against his friend.

Elizabeth decided she had heard enough and went to find Jane. The two had a good laugh over it, but were soon met with the two men she had just escaped from. Bingley and Jane engaged in lively conversation while Fitz and Elizabeth pretended not to see each other.

"Oh, Jane! Lizzy! My dears, you just simply won't believe it! There is another family coming to town and they have six sons. Six! That's enough for all of my daughters, and Charlotte Lucas, if she wants one. Of course, that poor girl is so plain." Mrs. Bennet had a tendency to pop up where she wasn't wanted.

"Mama!" cried Elizabeth. "You can't say things like that!"

"Oh, Lizzy. Stop being so sensitive. You know as well as I do that Charlotte Lucas is not a beauty."

Elizabeth and Jane turned scarlet while Charles coughed to suppress a laugh. Fitz's eyebrows rose, bemused at the woman's behavior.

Mrs. Bennet, unaware of their disapproval, continued. "Jane is widely considered the most beautiful girl in Hertfordshire. No one can compare. She was crowned Miss Hertfordshire when she was sixteen. I did think she would be married by now. She had quite a few beaus, one of which wrote her some beautiful poetry-"

Elizabeth decided it was time to intervene. "The poor sap," she said with a smile. "He lost any chance he had with that poem."

Fitz's brow furrowed. "I was under the impression that poetry is the 'food of love.'" He countered.

Elizabeth smiled archly. "Oh, sure. For a strong, long-time love. If it is only a crush, however, I am pretty sure that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

"Then what would you suggest to the poor sap?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Dancing. Even if one's partner is only tolerable."


	4. Chapter 4

—

The next morning found Elizabeth snuggled next to her sister in deep sleep. They had stayed up until four in the morning in Jane's room, talking about Dr. Charles Bingley and his friend, the Prince of Perelandra.

Jane was smitten. People who didn't know her well would think she was just flattered by the attention, but Elizabeth was well acquainted with her sister's reserved personality and could see the signs. Jane couldn't even speak the man's name without smiling. Elizabeth would say something ridiculous like, 'I'm sure he has webbed feet,' and Jane would just giggle and say, 'Lizzy, stop!' There were very few things Elizabeth loved more than teasing her beloved sister, and this had provided the perfect opportunity.

They were both woken up by the shrill beeping of Jane's phone.

Yanking the pillow over her head, Elizabeth groaned. "Make it stop! Please!"

When she couldn't find it on the bedside table, Jane flopped all over the bed, trying to find the phone's hiding spot. They were definitely not the graceful movements of a former beauty queen. Eventually, she found it under the covers at the bottom of the bed and held it up triumphantly.

"It's Charles!" she exclaimed. The brightness of her face would rival that of the sun.

Elizabeth threw another pillow at her. "It's nine o'clock in the morning! Why is he up this early on a Saturday?"

Jane simply rolled her eyes. "Normal people wake up before nine on any given day. Seriously, I wonder what you will do when the university schedules early classes for you. You might have to quit."

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out, which went unnoticed by Jane. If ever asked, she would answer that her goal was to remain like a child for as long as possible because it would keep her face wrinkle-free. At least, that was the excuse that worked with her mother.

"He wants to go out tonight!" Jane squealed.

Her sister sat up abruptly, suddenly not tired anymore. "He asked you on a date?"

She bobbed her head so hard that Elizabeth thought she might give herself an aneurysm. "He wants to go to that new restaurant, Voltaire. You know it takes about six months to get a reservation, but I'm sure that Prince Fitzwilliam managed it for him. I need a new dress!"

"I think you should wear that blue dress that you wore to the club for Hannah's hen night. It was beautiful on you. I mean, really. Your boobs in that dress made every girl jealous that night. Charles won't be able to keep his eyes off you. Or his hands for that matter."

Jane gasped. "Lizzy!"

"It's true! He was already fawning over you last night, this will just give him more reason," insisted Elizabeth. "Now, I know you're not going to take my advice, but I'm going to give it anyway. Do _not_ tell Mum."

Jane's eyes bugged out of her head. She couldn't comprehend keeping something from her mother. "What? Why?"

Elizabeth snorted. "Because she would practically go on the date with you! She would be over here when he picked you up, would be texting you the entire time you were out, and would be on our couch as soon as you got home. You know it's true. Spare yourself the headache. Don't you want a second date with our special Dr. Bingley? Because you know Mum would scare him away. I'm not even sure the two of you would manage to get out the door."

She sighed. Even Jane couldn't deny that their mother was overwhelming at times.

A few months ago, Jane had gone on a date with a construction worker from Meryton. The man was in his thirties and balding, and he had a significant beer belly. He was sweet, though, and Jane could never say no, even though she didn't particularly want to go. One would have thought Jane was a sheep heading to the slaughter, the way Fanny Bennet had acted She had laid on their couch, moaning and groaning and pretending to cry as Jane got ready for her date. Finally, Elizabeth called her father to come pick her up, and Thomas Bennet was forced to physically remove his wife. Jane ended up having a wonderful time but couldn't bring herself to go on a second date, lest she have to relive that experience with her mother.

"Fine. I won't tell her. But I'm blaming you when she finds out."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh, she blames me for everything anyway." It was true. If anything went wrong in the Bennets' lives, Fanny always found a way to blame it on Elizabeth. Or Mary. They were her usual scapegoats.

Jane gasped. "I have a great idea!"

Her sister looked at her skeptically. "If you suggest that I go over and tell her while you're on your date so that she doesn't feel completely left out, but you can still escape her, then I will smother you with this blanket."

She was met with a roll of the eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Lizzy. I wasn't going to suggest you go over there. Just call her."

"Jane…" Elizabeth's tone held warning.

"I'm just kidding. I was actually going to say that you and Prince Fitz should double date with us. He'll be bored at Netherfield by himself, _and_ it will give Mum something to really talk about."

"Jane!" Elizabeth was glaring now. "You really think I would go out with that insufferable man? Even if he is the Prince of Perelandra! He can hang out at Netherfield with Caroline. I am sure they will keep each other company quite well."

Jane sighed, deflated. "You're right. He was really rude, and you shouldn't have to spend time with him. I still can't believe he said those things about you."

Elizabeth jumped out of bed. "Exactly. Besides, I should think that Dr. Bingley wants you all to himself!"

Jane blushed crimson and popped her sister on the head with her pillow, which resulted in a good, old fashioned pillow fight.

Elizabeth placed the giant bowl of popcorn and her large glass of wine on the coffee table and settled on the couch with her feet propped up over the back of the couch. It was Saturday night, and she was watching a movie. Alone. And she was perfectly okay with it. Nothing was more relaxing or enjoyable to her than a night alone with a favorite book or movie. It infuriated her mother that she wasn't more social, but Elizabeth didn't really care. Why spend hours in a large group of people she didn't know wishing she were at home, when she could stay home and relax in peace?

Jane had left with Charles about an hour ago. Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she had seen something so amusing. The couple was so awkward; it was almost like watching two newborn colts get to know one another. There was a lot of staring and a lot of starting and stopping. Jane blushed in silence from the moment she opened the door, and Charles talked incessantly, stumbling over his words. Elizabeth couldn't blame him. Jane looked like a goddess with her tight blue dress and her hair curling softly around her face. It had taken hours of preparation from the two of them. Lizzy had done her hair and makeup, while Jane agonized over whether the pearl earrings would be better or the chandelier. It was all worth it, though, because heads would turn. Charles' already had.

Sweet Charles looked as if he had started out impeccably dressed but had worried his tie so much that it hung loosely around his neck. His navy blazer was crinkled, and he kept wiping his hands down the sides of his pants. Elizabeth really wanted to hand him a flask and say, 'Please drink, for all our sakes,' but she didn't. Jane deserved someone who was nervous to take her out.

They were going to make a wonderful couple, Elizabeth thought. As long as they could get over the awkwardness.

She had just gotten to the good part of the movie, when the heroine denies the male character her love, when her phone rang.

"Is this Elizabeth Bennet?" asked the man on the other end. When she answered in the affirmative he continued. "I am at St. Augustine hospital. A Miss Jane Bennet is being seen as a patient here, and you are her emergency contact."

Elizabeth sucked in a breath. "Is she okay?"

"She's currently being seen by our doctors. We just need you to come up here."

"Can you at least tell me what happened?"

"All I can tell you is that she had an allergic reaction to something she ate."

She threw her coat on over her pig pajamas and tugged on her purple, polka dot rain boots. She didn't even take a look in the mirror, otherwise she would have noticed that her hair was tied up in identical messy buns on either side of her head.

"I'm on my way," she gasped. "Will she be okay until I get there?"

"She will be fine." The nurse had taken on a comforting tone. "Just don't get into a wreck yourself."

Elizabeth paused and made herself take a deep breath. "Okay. I will be there as soon as I can."

Elizabeth rushed into the emergency room about fifteen minutes later, looking frantically around for anyone who could help her. She stopped in surprise when Charles Bingley ran up and hugged her.

"I don't understand," she stuttered. "She isn't allergic to anything. What happened? What did she eat? Is she okay?" It was like her words wouldn't stop.

Charles led her over to the waiting room where Prince Fitz and Caroline had joined him. The latter looked her up and down and sniffed as if offended by her mere presence.

"I think it was the shrimp we ate. One minute, she was fine, and the next she couldn't breathe."

"She doesn't have an EpiPen!" cried Elizabeth. "She's never needed on. What did you do without an EpiPen?" She was trying to remain calm, but as much as she tried to deny it she did have a little bit of Fanny Bennet in her. "Where is she right now? Is she okay? Can she breathe?"

"It was a pretty serious reaction, but I recognized the signs immediately and was able to call an ambulance. She stopped breathing for a minute or two, so I administered CPR until they arrived. They injected her with epinephrine and gave her oxygen, and she was conscious by the time we arrived at the hospital. She is going to be fine." Charles's voice was soothing, as if he had had this conversation millions of times. Which he probably had, Elizabeth realized.

Elizabeth sighed in relief. It was nice having a doctor who could give his medical opinion. "Please, call me Lizzy," she said with a smile.

Charles smiled back at her. "Alright, Lizzy. Do you mind if we wait with you? Should you call your family? It's going to be a little bit longer before they're finished with her."

Elizabeth sighed. That was a question for the ages. She knew she should call her parents. They deserved to know that their eldest daughter had nearly died, and they would find out eventually. She just couldn't stand the thought of having to sit in the cramped waiting room with her obnoxious mother.

She settled for a compromise. "I'm going to call my dad and let him know where we are. I'll be back." He was always the safest and he was the most practiced at keeping his wife out of the loop.

She went back outside to make the phone call to her father, hoping that he would agree to keep the secret from his wife at least until morning.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Caroline burst out laughing. "Did you see what she was wearing?" she exclaimed. "She looked like a five-year-old who had a rainbow throw up on her!"

When Fitz didn't respond, she continued. "And did you see how out of breath she was from running in here? She looked like a crazy person!"

Fitz couldn't help but murmur, "Her eyes certainly are beautiful, though."

Caroline looked at him, her mouth apparently trying to catch flies.

"Well, when is the wedding?" she asked snidely. "I need to buy my fascinator."

He rolled his eyes. "Why is it that you always jump to marriage, Caroline? There is nothing wrong with me complimenting a woman's appearance. It doesn't mean I'll marry her. You're just as bad as the press."

Elizabeth walked back in at that moment and looked between Darcy and Caroline. It was obvious that something had happened between the two. She shrugged, not caring, and quite literally fell into the chair next to Charles. She had tripped over air, earning a snicker from Caroline, which she ignored.

"I talked to my dad. He said he's going to keep my mother in the dark to give Jane some peace and quiet for at least a little bit."

Darcy suppressed a smile. After only spending a few hours in the same room as the woman, he had come to the conclusion that he would not want her anywhere near him during a crisis. Or in normal circumstances, for that matter. Caroline was not so well-mannered.

"Well, thank goodness for that! Your mother is quite a character."

Elizabeth decided that it would irk Caroline more if she didn't answer. Besides, if she answered the woman she would have to hear more of her nasal voice. She simply leaned back in her chair and pulled out a book.

"Do you always carry a book in your purse, Eliza?"

She looked up at Caroline, disappointed that she was still speaking and bewildered at the obvious disdain shown by the woman. She didn't know what she had done to deserve it. Maybe she was just a naturally mean person.

"I do. I am a literature professor, after all. And honestly, I would prefer you call me Elizabeth or Lizzy. Eliza was my horrid great aunt."

Caroline just rolled her eyes and leaned toward Fitz.

"So, Fitz," she purred. "How is dear Princess Georgiana? I do love that girl."

Fitz glanced around the room, as if looking for an escape, and Elizabeth couldn't help but snicker at his discomfort. Her smirk fell as he caught her in her amusement.

"She's well. She left to return to school about five days ago."

"Well, next time she is in the country, we _must_ get together. I would love to take that darling shopping. Goodness knows she doesn't have a woman to encourage her fashion sense."

He had no words. None. Elizabeth became more and more amused as the conversation continued.

"Considering she attends an all-girl boarding school and is studying fashion design, I think she has more than her share of fashion sense," he finally countered.

This time, Elizabeth didn't even attempt to conceal her laugh. Caroline shot daggers at her, and Fitz seemed to stare at her in disapproval.

"I'm sorry," she snorted. "I wasn't meaning to eavesdrop. I'm going to go back to my book now."

Charles grinned at her. "Don't apologize. Caroline is being ridiculous. It's nothing new."

"Charles!" cried his sister.

Elizabeth decided to make peace before Caroline blew a gasket. "How old is your sister, sir? It's probably something I should know, but I don't really keep up with the royal family."

She thought she saw a smile on his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "She is seventeen. I really think-"

He was interrupted by Caroline. She couldn't stand that they were having a conversation without her input. "Oh, she is so accomplished for a girl so young!"

The three other people looked at her incredulously. "Accomplished?" questioned Bingley. "What the hell does that even mean?"

She huffed. "Charles, it means that she has a lot of skills. That she has a lot of accomplishments."

Elizabeth couldn't resist. "Please, enlighten me, Caroline. What must a person do to be considered 'accomplished?'"

The look on Caroline's face was humorous. She looked as if she was about to try to explain calculus to a five-year-old. Elizabeth had known she would be an interesting character study, and she wasn't disappointed. Perhaps she would write a book and the ridiculous Caroline Bingley could be the main character. She could title it, 'Trying Hard to Look Hardly Trying.'

"An accomplished woman is talented in many areas. She must be athletic, artistic, and musical. She must be at the height of society. And she is beautiful, graceful and poised."

"And she must improve her mind with extensive reading and study," Fitz said, with a subtle glance at Elizabeth's book.

"Well, I've never seen such a woman," commented Elizabeth. "When you meet her, send her my way. I'm sure I would love to learn from her."

Prince Fitz looked at her sharply. "Are you so severe on your own sex?"

She met his eyes with a raised eyebrow. "Such a woman would be a terrifying person to see. I don't think it's possible to be outstanding in every single area. I think it's possible to be decent in every area but not a true talent in more than one or two."

"Besides, don't you think an accomplished woman would have a _job_?"

Caroline shot daggers at her brother. "I have a job, Charles!"

"Getting paid to attend parties at clubs is not a job, Caroline!"

Fitz shook his head and leaned over to Elizabeth. "This job argument has been going on for the last week," he whispered.

At that moment, the doctor walked in. "The family of Jane Bennet?"

Elizabeth immediately stood. "I'm her sister."

"Let me take you to her," he smiled. "She is conscious and doing well, but we want to keep her overnight for observation."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Caroline also sighed. Dramatically. "Now that we know she's okay, can we leave? Please?"

Charles looked at his sister as if she had turned orange, which admittedly she did resemble an Oompa Loompa thanks to a bad spray tan. "You are more than welcome to leave. I am staying until I can see her."

She turned to Fitz expectantly, thinking that he would follow her out. He stayed seated, and she huffed.

"Fitz. Come on."

He raised his eyebrows, not appreciative of being addressed in such a way. "I'll be staying here until Charles leaves." He looked furtively at Elizabeth, which was hard for her to decipher.

Caroline rolled her eyes and threw her arms up. "Fine."

Elizabeth looked between them and smirked. It was so evident that Caroline was smitten, but the Prince wanted none of it.

"Miss Bennet, I will take you to your sister now."


End file.
